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<title>The Penultimate Tarkalean Tea by moody_trans_detective</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679332">The Penultimate Tarkalean Tea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective'>moody_trans_detective</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Tea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:35:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>481</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679332</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bashir is on a stationwide mission for tea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Penultimate Tarkalean Tea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“And there it is,” said Bashir, watching the mug materialize with eager eyes. It had barely solidified before he reached out and grabbed the blue handle. This was going to taste marvelous. “The penultimate Tarkalean tea.”</p><p>“What,” said Odo. It was not a question.</p><p>Bashir lifted the mug to his lips, the sweet scent warm as he inhaled. The perfect temperature, as always. The first sip was always a bit of a relief, psychologically satisfying. He had Tarkalean tea often enough that it was very effective at eliciting a positive response.</p><p>And positive it was. The extra sweet was just a hint sweeter than he was used to, Bashir thought, though not unwelcome. He had another sip.</p><p>“Do you mean to say you’re intending to stop drinking your Tarkalean tea, doctor?”</p><p>“Ah, no,” said Bashir, the mug halfway to his lips again. He pulled it away so quickly to speak, several drops splashed out and over his hand. Bashir searched for a place to set the mug down, a table perhaps, but of course there was no such thing in Odo’s quarters. He hesitated a moment, then resigned himself to a wet hand for the moment.</p><p>“Well, what <em>do</em> you mean, and why are you here when you could be at the replimat?”</p><p>“Oh, that. Well, first I want to thank you for this marvelous cup of tea—”</p><p>“Will this be a lengthy explanation, doctor? I’m scheduled to go on duty at 0600 hours and I don’t allow guests unsupervised in my quarters.”</p><p>Although Odo hadn’t moved from where he observed, arms crossed over his chest, standing near the door, Bashir was beginning to get the impression the Changeling wanted him out. Though he was loathe to rush his Tarkalean tea, he took a large gulp to drink it faster.</p><p>“Well, that’s an interesting story. Garak and I were talking, and he pointed out I had the same cup of tea every morning, and—I—well—” Bashir had another sip, more to work on finishing the tea than to ignore Odo’s expression, and then another. “I’ll get to the point. I made it a personal goal to try a cup of Tarkalean tea from every replicator aboard DS9.”</p><p>“And my replicator was last on your list.”</p><p>“Second to last. I still have the one in Quark’s quarters left. You know, I find it fascinating that there are subtle differences despite each Tarkalean tea being made to the same exact specifications…” Bashir had another sip.</p><p>“Yes. Fascinating,” said Odo. He leaned off the wall. “You might talk to O’Brien about it sometime.”</p><p>“I think I might.”</p><p>“0600 hours,” said Odo.</p><p>“Duty. Right.” Bashir tipped the mug up and finished the tea. Really, it should be savored, not slurped. “Thank you, Odo.”</p><p>Bashir searched for a table again in vain, gave up, and handed the empty mug to Odo on his way out.</p>
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